The Importance Of Pacing
by Risque Tendencies
Summary: Love, like confidence, is a slow growing plant. KagaHimu (one-sided); developing MuraHimu.


Waiting to fall asleep at night was forever the time when his demons came to life. Any matter that he was trying to avoid ruminating on chose that space to prey upon him, to rack Tatsuya's brain until he mercifully lost consciousness. He had come to expect it by now, but that didn't make each time any less painful. Tonight, the fuzzy memory of a darkened bedroom fought its way to the front of his mind.

It had been later summer when the Californian climate grew stagnant and sticky, stealing all of the oxygen from their surroundings and making it hard to cope with. The air conditioner in the house had been on the fritz for the past few days and until Monday when the repairman could come, they were out of luck. The only protection the boys had against the weather were the heavy curtains shut over the windows, shielding the room from the extra heat of the sun's rays, and a single woebegone fan placed in the center of the floor, whirring listlessly as the afternoon wore on.

That particular day the boys had been winding down after another of their perennial games; this week Kagami had been the victor. And, though he couldn't put his finger on why, he had the impression that this fact had been behind what had happened once they were alone. Yes, even after several months to reflect on the event, Himuro couldn't exactly explain himself - it was a moment of weakness, surely, but why he'd chosen that time… it was beyond his comprehension.

Taiga and he had been sprawled out on the bed, utterly boneless from the room's temperature, when everything had started. Where only a short while before, they had been talking about many innocent topics, the atmosphere rapidly altered with the sweet symphony of his little brother's laughter.

Himuro had turned his head on the pillow, gazing at the other while he cracked up, and drank that image in. Taiga had once said, around the time they met, that he was a gloomy person. As much as he'd reviled the label at the time, deep down he had to admit there was some truth in it. But rather than being comfortable with wallowing in his misery, he craved something that would light a fire in him, someone or something that would permanently replace that misery with joy. Over time, he thought he'd found that in the other boy beside him.

Tatsuya couldn't recall what it was that the redhead had been guffawing over, only that when he'd watched him, his sentiments had overflown.

Cradling one hand behind his head, he'd vanquished the gap between them and kissed Taiga on impulse. Their lips hadn't crashed so much as rested against each other, the embrace tentative and carrying heavy undertones of anxiety, at least on Tatsuya's side. He hadn't wanted to pull away once he'd made such a bold move, and the caress of Taiga's skin on his was pleasurable, so he'd held very still apart from slightly muffling the hair at the nape of Kagami's neck. Truth be told, he was trying to allow him to take the next action in the hope that Taiga would reveal what he thought of this.

Tatsuya wasn't disappointed in that regard, but his brother's reaction was slow, his posture frozen for a long spell until his lungs begged for more oxygen than he could glean through his nose. Large hands eventually peeled them apart at the shoulders, and a crimson blush lit up Kagami's face once they had enough space between them for Himuro to notice. He had smiled for a second at that sight, his heart desiring to put that color back on the boy's face yet another time.

"Um…That's okay," the redhead had blustered, along with a string of indiscernible syllables.

You see, he wasn't ever rejected, outright. Taiga was simultaneously too kind and too cruel to lay it out that clearly. He had known, though. It was primarily because he understood his brother so well that he'd backed off after that point, never daring another such experiment again. It was his just desserts for rushing when he knew better than to be rash.

Maybe taking things more slowly wouldn't have won Taiga over in the end, but it would have been less awkward when the reveal occurred than kissing him out of the blue. When he had no idea, had absolutely no clue that Himuro thought of him that way. It was mean, in a way, because he'd forced Taiga to have to make a decision with only a split second of knowledge. That was wrong, he realized now. Love, like confidence, is a slow growing plant. If he'd believed in himself more, then he wouldn't have had to resort to catching the redhead off guard to make his move.

Predictably, rehashing all of this made him melancholy. It had been a while since he'd shed a tear over Kagami, but perhaps it was past due to happen. Regardless of the reason, Tatsuya could taste salt on his tongue and feel an old and familiar burn at the corner of either eye.

Rubbing at the moisture dotting his face, he attempted to banish it for good. Still, he was unlikely to do anything other than drown deeper in his mood if he kept laying here. More and more these days, there was only one cure that had any effect on wicked thoughts from the past. Said cure may not have had any idea he was aiding, but it worked all the same.

Hoisting himself out of his own bed, he padded over to where his roommate's bunk was laid out.

All Himuro could say was - thank goodness this school wasn't insistent on imprisoning students with people of their class. A little youthful companionship was restorative in comparison to being subject to the same stresses his peers were facing as a group. Besides, it just meant he didn't have to wait until morning to obtain his pick-me-up.

Rousing the other was a suspiciously easy task compared to some nights. If he didn't know Murasakibara's penchant for sleeping the night through, he'd have wondered if he wasn't the only one just awake in the room. He nudged his junior into consciousness by a combination of poking and verbiage.

"It's too_ laaate,_" was yawned petulantly in his general direction when he did, the bed's occupant burying their tousled head beneath one of the pillows. Despite himself, Tatsuya's lips cambered, if only an infinitesimal bit. A hand caught the other teen between the shoulders, gently patting the space to make sure he had their attention. After a spell, he made his intentions clear.

"Atsushi, would there be enough space for me under there?"

"There might be," came the greatly muffled response.

Sensing capitulation, the raven paused a moment to try and clear his head before ducking underneath the comforter. It was a hopeless pursuit, about as hopeless as trying to stretch out in a space mostly claimed by Murasakibara's tangled limbs, so he didn't put much effort into either. Conforming to the space allowed him, he curled into the strip of mattress behind the giant, and rearranged the pillow covering Atsushi's violet locks to act as a barrier between them. Tatsuya then put sleep at the forefront of his mind.

His chest felt marginally lighter where he was resting now, and perhaps, in time, it would even begin to seem like home.


End file.
